


Love Is A Simple Thing

by blackandorange



Series: Homeward [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, I just want my boys to be happy and in love, M/M, POV Akaashi Keiji, POV Bokuto Koutarou, POV Oikawa Tooru, Piano Sex, Rimming, Smut, a little bit because of course Oikawa and Akaashi would try to sass each other to death, have a good read, probably the happiest of endings, this has switching povs, this is very smut heavy so buckle up, this should be all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 04:12:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10549872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackandorange/pseuds/blackandorange
Summary: “Love is a simple thing, Keiji. This time, let me show you.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic could be read as a stand alone fic, but, to have a more clear vision of this story, I suggest you to read [Lover Of The Light](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8675347/chapters/19888528) and [Golden](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8255203) too, since this is the last piece of the trilogy. 
> 
>  
> 
> Have a good read...and happy Bokuaka Day to all of you!

In the last couple of months, life had been particularly generous to Oikawa Tooru. It gave him access to the most prestigious university in Japan, the position of official setter in the university’s volleyball team, a restored relationship with his long time boyfriend Iwaizumi Hajime, and a new best friend. Still, it wasn’t perfect, but Oikawa was happy, ridiculously and even annoyingly so. 

He had only one, big concern left: Bokuto Koutarou. Oikawa was more than used to being constantly worried about him, but lately one thing in particular was destabilizing their already precarious balance, and that thing came in the form of Akaashi Keiji, Bokuto’s boyfriend.

Nothing was wrong with him, but Oikawa was sensing something was off and that he himself was probably the cause of it, even if he didn’t know why.

There had been that  _ incident _ back in the past, when both Bokuto and Oikawa were still two lost and longing souls, in which they almost kissed and ended up sleeping half naked in the same bed. Both Iwaizumi and Akaashi were more than aware of the fact, and though he knew that Iwaizumi was at peace with it, he guessed Akaashi wasn’t.

No matter how much he tried, he’d never met Akaashi in the flesh, and that was probably the mother of all the problems. He knew, he just  _ knew _ , that Akaashi didn’t like him because the way he was eluding his presence was the same method Oikawa himself would have adopted to avoid being in the company of someone who he couldn’t stand. Kuroo Tetsurou, for example.

Bokuto and Iwaizumi, on the contrary, were on more than on good terms. They literally adored each other, so much that Oikawa started to think that Bokuto liked Iwazumi way more than he liked him. And that was probably true, after all, they were the two boys he himself loved the most.

Simply, Iwaizumi was the love of his life. Their bond was so deep it escaped the rules of logic, their love so big most people didn’t understand their relationship. His worthless pride had torn them apart once, but now that they were together again he promised himself to not let anything separate them ever again. He knew more than well how life was without Iwaizumi. To him, it was a life that wasn’t worth living. Of course they had other things that kept them going but, at the end of the day, everything they were doing, every sleepless night spent over their books, every week apart because of some project, every time their schedules just weren’t able to match, everything they did, they did it for the perfect image of the future they built for each other. A future where they’d be together, finally stable.

He didn’t need to see Iwaizumi drop on one knee and ask him the famous question, they already knew they were each other’s, forever.  

On the other hand, his relationship with Bokuto couldn’t find words to describe it even searching in all the dictionaries of all the languages in the whole world. Their bond was something unique, something that was far beyond both love and friendship. Bokuto was his person.

Despite their tight schedules, the three of them were used to spending a lot of time together and more than once found themselves sleeping all piled up on each other on the couch after some gaming marathon or a late night movie.

The two boys were the closest thing Oikawa had to a family here in Tokyo and that’s why he decided it was time to fix the situation with Akaashi. To both Iwaizumi and Bokuto’s displeasure, he personally invited Akaashi to have dinner with them in their home. He needed to meet him and stop  _ “living in his own projection of reality”, _ like Iwaizumi always said when he started ranting about how much he thought Akaashi hated him.

There was one thing he regretted though: the fact that he decided to cook. Because of course he didn’t want to just meet him, he wanted to  _ impress _ him too.

When he heard the doorbell ring, Oikawa startled but didn’t leave the kitchen area, waiting for Bokuto, who was surprisingly quieter than usual, to take care of the guest.

“Iwa-chan! My best bro!” Bokuto yelled, opening the main door of their shared apartment.

“Pray Kuroo never hears you calling him that,” Oikawa said, without looking away from the vegetables he was chopping.

“Iwa-chan is my best bro, Kuroo is my best bro too, but you’re the best of the best bros!” Bokuto winked, blowing a kiss to Oikawa.

“You’re such a suck-up,” Oikawa scoffed, shaking his head.

“Hi babe, you’re in a good mood like always, I see,” Iwaizumi said, placing a kiss on the back of Oikawa’s neck. “What are you making?”

“Rice, salmon and sautéed vegetables,” Oikawa answered, his tone mellowed by the softness of Iwaizumi’s lips on his skin. That was probably his favorite sensation in the world.

“Also known as: another of your boring healthy meals,” Bokuto teased him from the other side of the room, giving him an annoyed look.

“If it wasn’t for my  _ boring healthy meals _ , you’d already have starved to death,” Oikawa yelled, pointing at Bokuto with the sharp knife in his hand.

“Stop it already, children!” Iwaizumi scolded them, gently but firmly gripping Oikawa’s wrist to make him put down the knife.  

“He started…” Bokuto complained, crashing onto the sofa with folded arms, like he always did when he was in the mood to throw tantrums. Which was quite often, to be completely honest.

“I said stop it!” Iwaizumi warned him, pressing a finger on the tip of Bokuto’s nose, a small gesture that was able to capture Bokuto’s attention immediately. After a brief moment of tense silence, they exchanged a soft smile and Bokuto lowered his gaze with a guilty pout.

“By the way, I picked up your mail on the way up, look what I found…” Iwaizumi said, sitting down on the sofa and tossing a magazine on the coffee table before him for them to see.

Oikawa left the kitchen and sat down between Bokuto and iwaizumi. He picked it up and stared at it, completely frozen. It was the latest issue of Volleyball Magazine and the cover was nothing but a massive picture of Oikawa sat on the bleachers of the gym, his smile thin but proud, one forearm lazily resting on Bokuto’s shoulder, who was sat between his legs a step underneath. Bokuto had one elbow on Oikawa’s good knee and the other arm stretched before him, clenching a bright volleyball in his hand. He was displaying his signature half smirk, his golden stare sharp as a razor, and both of them were wearing their blue Tokyo University jersey. Above the picture, a big title written in bold white letters said:  _ “Meet the new volleyball power couple - an exclusive interview with Bokuto Koutarou and Oikawa Tooru” _ .

“Why have they put your name before mine?” Oikawa asked Bokuto, who was now peeking from above his shoulder.

“It’s alphabetical order, you dumbass,” Bokuto scoffed.

“It better be,” Oikawa whispered, still unable to tear his eyes away from the cover. It was a beautiful photo, but the title stung painfully in his chest. It wasn’t the first interview they’d given to that magazine, Bokuto especially had to give several after he won the Nationals with the Fukurodani Academy team, but it was the very first one they’d done together. It had seemed like a good idea when they were asked, now, seeing the outcome, not so much.

On paper it was true, they truly were a power couple, a setter and a spiker able to get past every wall that loomed before them, but, at the same time, it was implying something he was afraid Iwaizumi and even Akaashi wouldn’t like. The fact that Bokuto didn’t reach for the magazine and didn’t even comment on it was a tell tale sign that their train of thought had probably been the same. They both left it unopened on the table, afraid of what they might find inside.

“How stingy of them though, why did they send just one copy?” was Bokuto’s only comment on the matter.

“Maybe they thought you could afford to buy your own copy, since you’re so rich you could actually buy the whole newspaper itself,” Oikawa rolled his eyes, standing up to go and resume his cooking.

“I should do it and put myself on the cover every damn month,” he nodded with a self-satisfied smile.

“That would be boring,” Oikawa commented, absently stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“That would be awesome! Right, Iwa-chan? If you say it’s awesome I’m gonna put you on the cover too once!” Bokuto beamed.

“Then it’s awesome!” Iwaizumi laughed.

“Oh please babe, don’t support him!” Oikawa let out an exasperated sigh. “And you, don’t call him Iwa-chan!” he said, this time pointing at Bokuto with a less frightening wooden spoon.

“Dude…were you high the day you decided to get back with him?” Bokuto asked, hugging Iwaizumi’s arm and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“I ask myself the same question every day,” Iwaizumi said, faking a very serious expression.

“He was drunk, not high,” Oikawa pointed out. “And by the way I’m so done with you. Both of you.” This time the spoon waved in both their directions.

“And what are you gonna do, ground us in our room?” Bokuto’s face lit up with that smug amusement that Oikawa sometimes wished he didn’t have to look at.

“Worse, I -” Oikawa started, but was cut off by the sound of the intercom. Oikawa froze on the spot, their little banter had made him completely forget about Akaashi.

“Is he here already?” Bokuto asked, with a terrified expression painted all over his face.

“Already?! We’re almost two hours late on the timetable, of fucking course he’s here!” Oikawa yelled, losing his composure for a brief moment.  

“The only thing I can think about right now is that meme of the guy screaming  _ ‘oh my god it’s happening’ _ . Because...oh my god, it’s happening! Akaashi is here! What do I do?”

“Not to quote the meme but...everyone stay calm!” Oikawa barked, trying to get a grip of the situation that was already out of control.

Bokuto sprinted to his room and Iwaizumi sunk even further into the couch. It looked like he was trying to let himself be absorbed by it and then disappear. He gave Oikawa an encouraging nod towards the door. Like magic, the intercom buzzed again. Oikawa took a deep breath to collect himself and walked to the door, opening it without hesitation.

The first thing he saw was a beautiful white orchid. Behind it, a likewise beautiful pair of surprised dark blue eyes, a thin smile and a mass of curly raven hair. Akaashi Keiji was standing in front of him, in all his legendary coldness and beauty.

“Good evening, Oikawa-san,” he said with a small bow, offering him the plant that he was holding in his hands.

“Good evening Akaashi, please, come in.” Oikawa stepped aside, taking the flower with him. “I’m gonna leave it here so Bokuto -”

“The orchid is for you. It’s your favorite flower, isn’t is?” Akaashi cut him off, firmly and gently at the same time.

“It is.” Oikawa was completely taken aback. He wondered how Akaashi knew about it, maybe Bokuto told him. But still, it was a really nice, unexpected gesture. “Thank you so much, you chose an amazing variety,” he smiled, putting down the plant that was still in his hands.

“Thank you for having me tonight,” Akaashi replied simply.

“Since I have no clue where Bokuto is, I’ll do the honors. Well, I’m Oikawa Tooru,” he said, offering his hand. “And this is Iwaizumi Hajime, my boyfriend.”

Iwaizumi stepped right next to Oikawa and offered his hand to Akaashi. Oikawa recognized on his face the particular look he reserved for strangers, that deep steely stare that was able to collect so many details at once. Iwaizumi was studying Akaashi as much as Oikawa was, but Akaashi was holding both their stares without any trouble. As if he was used to it.

“I’m Akaashi Keiji. May I help you with something?” he said, offering another of his dry but polite smiles.

And, just like that, their night began. Akaashi and Iwaizumi set the table while Oikawa made the final adjustments to their meal. Eventually, Bokuto emerged from his room in a changed outfit, acting like having Akaashi there was the most normal thing in the world, despite almost just having had a breakdown. Oikawa knew he was pretending, he could feel the tension he was radiating even without turning to look at him.

Oikawa was glad to have Iwaizumi there with him. He was smoothly leading the small talk, doing what he could to erase the initial embarrassment. Oikawa almost choked on a laugh when he heard Akaashi addressing Bokuto as “Bokuto-san”. He was this close to asking why he was keeping up the honorifics like that, even after dating him for months and having pined over him for almost three years, but Oikawa caught himself soon enough. He made a mental note to discuss this point with Iwaizumi after dinner.

“What’s this chart for?” Akaashi asked, startling Oikawa.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Akaashi approaching him and pointing at a whiteboard pinned on the wall. Oikawa’s eyes lingered a bit more on Akaashi’s hands. He had incredibly long and skinny fingers, a couple of which were wrapped in white bandages. Typical setter hands, Oikawa noticed.

“Oh, that’s our betting chart, we make bets on basically every single show we watch and we cash the money at the end of every month,” Oikawa explained.

“What kind of bets?” Akaashi was looking at it with his head tilted to the side, probably trying to make sense of all the badly scribbled kanji on it.

“Masterchef is our favorite, so much betting material there,” Bokuto jumped in. “Every time someone has to make a choice we bet. The elimination one has a double prize, though.”

“Masterchef? There’s no Japanese edition of Masterchef,” Akaashi said, furrowing his perfect brows.

“I know, we watch the Italian one,” Bokuto said proudly. “I mean, if you have to learn something about cooking, it better be Italian cooking.”

“Coming from someone who doesn’t even cook, that sounds a little bit preposterous, Kou,” Oikawa laughed, shaking his head. He heard Iwaizumi chuckle too.

“Anyway, we have one for missed serves too,” Bokuto pointed out, changing the subject as smoothly as he always did. “Whoever misses the most buys a round of drinks each week.”

“That sounds...particularly stimulating,” Akaashi said, trying to sound as polite as always, but he was looking between them like he was standing in front of two people completely out of their minds.

“It is,” Oikawa smirked. Constant betting was a habit he took away with him from his high school days back at Aoba Johsai. Hanamaki and Matsukawa would probably laugh at that kind of bet though, theirs were...certainly more extreme, for lack of better words to describe them.

Oikawa tasted the food one last time: it was perfect, but he was still feeling incredibly anxious. He gave the table a final look, before putting down the big pot of his rice in the middle of it, along with the small appetizers he’d already made, and Bokuto had already half eaten like always. The table looked perfect and a bottle of wine was already open on it. Oikawa took a deep breath before calling the small group, and his stomach dropped when he saw them around the coffee table, flipping through the volleyball magazine. Akaashi’s expression was blank, not a single sign of either annoyance or excitement. The guy was incredibly difficult to read.

When they finally sat down at the dining table, Oikawa waited for all of them to take the first bite, surveying their expressions, searching for some kind of feedback. He didn’t have to wait long.

“That’s so good Tooru, exactly how I like it!” Bokuto beamed, his mouth still half full.

The sincerity in his eyes stole a smile form Oikawa, who finally relaxed. Taking a bite of the rice, Oikawa realized he was so used to cooking for Bokuto that he automatically adjusted the seasoning balance to meet Bokuto’s tastes even that night. He dismissed the thought as soon as he had it, blaming it on habit.

Despite everything, it was a surprisingly enjoyable dinner. For someone as slender as he was, Akkashi truly ate a lot. He had a portion of everything that was on the table, praising Oikawa on his cooking skills. Apparently all those Masterchef episodes had really paid off. They talked about their life at Tokyo University, about Oikawa’s dream of designing a volleyball stadium, about Iwaizumi’s studies, about their imminent trip back to Sendai. Bokuto and Akaashi shared some stories about when they were together in the Fukurodani Academy, and Oikawa payed particular attention to Bokuto. His high school days had always been a sensitive topic, one that was able to darken his mood immediately, but this time there was no dark cloud over him. He smiled the whole time, talking of people Oikawa felt he knew too, as Bokuto had talked about them to him so many times in the past. And, of course, they talked about volleyball.

The discussion about playing with two setters on court was still ongoing as Oikawa was washing the dishes, Bokuto by his side carefully drying everything, as they always did.

“The problem is not having a setter who’s a great spiker too,” Iwaizumi was explaining, aligning some nuts on the table to illustrate the formation. “The problem is having two setters of equal abilities in the team.”

“Not easy when you have Japan’s best setter on the team, right Iwa-chan?” Bokuto teased, rolling his eyes.

“I take that as a compliment, but I already told you a million times not to call him Iwa-chan!” Oikawa scoffed.

“Why, are you jealous?” Bokuto smirked, bumping his hip playfully against Oikawa’s.

“Of course!” Oikawa grinned back, ripping the wet towel from Bokuto’s hand and whipping it on his bum with a loud crack.

“But which one are you jealous of, Oikawa-san?” Akaashi asked, not a single hint of humour in his tone.

The question made the house fall completely still, so much it looked like they were frozen in time. Oikawa clenched his fingers around the pot he was cleaning. He opened his mouth but before he could spit out the venom that had already gathered on his tongue, Iwaizumi cut him off with a muffled laugh.

“Akaashi, believe me, that attitude won’t get you anywhere.”

Again, no one had the guts to reply to Iwaizumi’s comment. Oikawa dropped everything and just tuned to look at his boyfriend, and Bokuto mirrored his action. Iwaizumi’s eyes were pinned on Akaashi, who was staring back at him. For the first time since he met him, he was looking almost uncomfortable.  

“I see where you’re coming from, but the sooner you accept that right now things are like that the better,” Iwaizumi continued. “Do you think it was easy for me? Seeing another man taking all the spots that used to be mine in his life? We’re even wearing the same jersey number, for fucks sake!” Iwazumi raised his voice and a shiver made Oikawa startle. The last time he heard Iwaizumi use that tone was during their last fight, the night they eventually got back together. He had never seen him as angry as he had been that night.

“Iwa…” Bokuto started, taking a step forward, but Oikawa gently pressed a hand on his stomach to make him stay still. Bokuto complied, resting his back against the kitchen unit again.

“I know everything about the bond you shared with Bokuto, because it was the same for me and Oikawa, we were spiker and setter too. But you have to find a way to protect yourself from this, because the magazine is just the start. They’re gonna use them as much as they can, exploiting their relationship for every kind of purpose.” Iwaizumi’s voice was back to normal and he was now sounding almost comforting. He shifted a little closer to Akaashi, who was still holding his stare, unmoved, unblinking.

Iwaizumi glanced between Oikawa and Bokuto, then took a deep breath before resuming his speech. “The thing is, this isn’t completely fake, they love each other, so much it’s almost tooth-rotting to watch sometimes. But trust me when I tell you that there’s nothing more than that. They developed a bond that’s almost impossible for other people like us to understand...but what I know is that Bokuto will never love another person the same way he loves you. He chose you, when he could have him anytime.”

That last sentence was like a punch in the gut for Oikawa. There had been a time, before he and Iwaizumi got back together, in which he was this close from falling for Bokuto. He would never forget Bokuto’s eyes and his trembling lips that night they almost kissed. Oikawa thanked the gods every day for not letting that happen.

In the meantime, Akaashi was staring at Iwaizumi with an unreadable expression on his face, while Bokuto was looking between him and Iwaizumi with barely concealed watery eyes.

“Why are y’all looking at me like that?” Iwaizumi scoffed, cracking a nut open and starting to eat it like nothing had happened.

Akaashi finally dropped his stare to the floor, it was written all over his face how great an impact Iwaizumi’s words had had on him. Bokuto looked at Oikawa, his eyes darting all across his face, like he was asking what he should do. Oikawa just nodded in the direction of the table, suggesting he should just sit down.

Iwaizumi was right. Everything he said was nothing but the truth...but still Oikawa wasn’t able to let all of that go. If there was one thing that hadn’t improved in the last couple of months, it was his anger management. He wouldn’t make a scene in front of them, but the rage was already sneaking up his spine, making all of his body tense. He felt the urge to pick a fight and yell in Akaashi’s face. He was no one, fucking no one, to dare to  _ sass _ him. Oikawa closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to collect himself.

“We don’t have dessert to eat. I’m going out to buy some,” Oikawa snapped. He took his jacket from the hanger and left the apartment, slamming the door behind him before anyone could stop him or ask him to stay.

Oikawa didn’t know where he was going, he just needed to walk and to be left alone to chill his nerves. The tension in the apartment was so thick it almost drove him insane and, in the fresh air of the night, he felt like he could finally breathe normally again. He barely made it to the street corner before he noticed, much to his displeasure, that someone was following him. Or rather, running after him.

“Oikawa-san?” Akaashi’s hurried voice came from behind him. He ran until he was right in front of him, folding himself in half with how much he was panting. “May I walk with you?” he asked, raising his eyes to meet Oikawa’s.

“Yes,” Oikawa managed to say after the initial shock. “...of course.”

“I want to apologize,” Akaashi started, as soon as he was able to speak again. “I was rude and disrespectful towards you. I’m sorry my attitude ruined our dinner and offended you. You did nothing but try to be nice to me, despite me being a condescending brat.”

Oikawa laughed at that.

“I won’t lie to you Akaashi, I was and I still am upset, but as Iwa-chan’s said...it’s understandable. Probably I would have reacted in the same way if our positions were switched, or even worse,” Oikawa conceded, meeting Akaashi’s firm stare. “I’ve always been afraid of you, you know?”

“You...of me?” Akaashi seemed genuinely baffled by the revelation.

“Yes,” Oikawa nodded, securing his fists in his pockets and starting to walk again. Akaashi followed him immediately. “You have this aura surrounding you and, on paper, you achived what I never could. Bokuto is an incredible athlete, but he needs someone who knows how to support him properly. Taking your spot on court was not as easy as it seemed from the outside.” 

“I’m...Oikawa-san, I really don’t know what to say, I never thought you’d worry about it,” Akaashi said, dropping his head down. He was looking even more sorry and somehow that pleased Oikawa. He liked to see traces of humanity behind ice-cold personalities like Akaashi.

“I worry about everything,” Oikawa admitted with a light chuckle. “But  _ you _ have nothing to fear, Akaashi. Bokuto loves you more than anyone else, he’s my best friend and I’ll never try to steal him from you. Life is not easy, but I love Hajime and I did everything I could to get him back. I already have to deal with Kuroo hating me, and I honestly don’t give a shit about it, but…maybe being friends the same way Iwa-chan and Bokuto are is utopian, but at least we could try to have a civil relationship?” Oikawa suggested with a ghost of a smile, his chocolate eyes open and sincere. 

“I...I’ve…” Akaashi started but the words got lost on his tongue. “I’ve never had a true friend, Bokuto is my one and only. But yes, we can try,” he nodded, offering Oikawa a smile of his own.

Oikawa sat down on the rim of the fountain of the park they were walking in, letting out a deep sigh of relief. He was suddenly feeling exhausted. Akaashi mirrored his actions, sitting down next to him, not too close, not too far.

“So...I’m not the only one who’s having problems with pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo-san.” Akaashi stated, casually kicking a little rock in front of him.

“No, you certainly are not the only one,” Oikawa agreed with an annoyed grimace, shaking his head.

They exchanged a long and knowing look before they both burst into laughter.  
  


=

 

Oikawa wished he could have framed Iwaizumi’s and Bokuto’s faces the moment him and Akaashi walked in the apartment, chatting and giggling with each other like nothing happened. On their way back they never stopped talking for a single moment. Their mutual dislike for Kuroo was just the icebreaker that lead them to discover how many things they had in common. Akaashi even asked him for advice on how to improve in his role as a captain, since his leadership style was far more similar to Oikawa’s than to Bokuto’s. 

The rest of the night passed in a blur, as smooth as Oikawa wished it could have been from the beginning. The tension was now completely faded between the ice cream, the casual chats and several laughs. Seeing the four of them sat around the coffee table with smiles painted all over their faces lifted a huge weight from Oikawa’s shoulder.

Oikawa could hear Akaashi giggling at something Iwaizumi just said in the living room. He was still lost in the enjoyment of that warm feeling that he startled when he heard someone knocking on the door of his room.

“What’s wrong?” Oikawa sighed without turning round, still sorting through his clothes to find something to pack for his weekend back home with Iwaizumi.

“Why are you assuming that something’s wrong?” Bokuto’s voice came from behind him.

“You actually knocked on the door, you’ve never done it  _ once _ since we started living together,” Oikawa said shaking his head. He took one of Bokuto’s coats out from the closet, a piece that alone would have cost as much as a middle class person’s monthly salary. He put it on, looking intently at his reflection in the mirror.

“Wait, is that my coat? I’ve searched for it everywhere!’” Bokuto asked in a ridiculously shocked tone, sounding far less annoyed that he probably intended to.

“No, you didn’t. You forgot you even had it.” Oikawa answered in a matter-of-fact way, still moving around to look at how the coat was framing his figure. Despite their size difference, it fit him perfectly. “

“That’s not technically a lie,” he laughed. “You should keep it, you look good in it...like a fancy little bitch.”

“How does Akaashi cope with your beautiful way of complimenting people?” Oikawa snorted, finally turning around to look at his flatmate.

“Simply, he doesn’t,” he winked, but his tense expression was giving away that there was something else going on in his mind.

“Don’t try to change the subject, what’s bothering you?” Oikawa asked softly, stepping right in front of where Bokuto was leaning against the door frame.

“I can’t do this, Tooru. I can’t.” Bokuto said, dropping his gaze to the floor. “It’s gonna be a disaster.” His voice was nothing more than a lost whisper.

Oh,  _ that _ .

Oikawa almost forgot that this was the first night Akaashi was supposed to spend over, that tonight Bokuto decided to finally leave the harbor of virginity to sail in the lustful sea of sex. Oikawa felt immensely proud of him.

“We’ve already talked about the technicalities a lot, I’m sure you’re more than prepared,” Oikawa said, trying to reassure him.

“You can explain the  _ technicalities _ of how to make a great toss all you want, but I’ll never understand how to do it until I...actually do it. And I’m sure I’ll be an awful setter and -” Bokuto’s voice started to race.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Oikawa stopped him, holding Bokuto’s face in his hands and forcing their gazes to lock. He stroked his thumbs over his cheekbones a couple of times, until he was sure he had his full attention.

It was just incredible to witness such a fragile version of Bokuto. He always appeared fearless, strong, without a single trouble in the world. But Oikawa knew the truth, he knew sometimes that mind of his played nasty tricks on him, making him see everything painted black, doubt every single choice he made, completely lose faith in himself. Those were the days in which Oikawa felt the urge to protect him the most, to remember him how much he worked to put all those muscles around that thin glass heart that was beating inside his chest. Oikawa knew Bokuto was invincible, and was his duty to make sure he never forgot that.

“I think you can do it Kou-chan, and that’s the only thing that matters,” he said softly, rising up on his tiptoes and placing a delicate kiss on Bokuto’s forehead.

“You...you  do?” Bokuto asked. His voice was still quivering but his eyes were shining again.

“Of course. Do it or otherwise I won’t toss to you anymore,” Oikawa smiled, stepping away and waving his hand to dismiss him.

“You can’t do that!” Bokuto uttered in his usual spoiled child tone of voice.

“Maybe I can, maybe I can’t.” Oikawa winked, walking past him to exit his room. “I guess we’ll never know.”

 

=

 

Iwaizumi was driving fast, leaving Tokyo just a gleaming mess of lights behind them. Oikawa sunk into the passenger seat, watching the city fade before his eyes. It was the first time he was coming back to Miyagi since he left. Back on that day he’d never imagined his life would have changed so much, that he would have found so many new things and even something, or better someone, he thought he’d lost forever. 

He missed home. Before Iwaizumi came back, he never dared return and venture in all those places filled with memories of them. But now he couldn’t wait to see them, to smell the scent of the trees that reminded him so much of his childhood, to walk those streets that could tell the story of how many times he fell, laughed and loved, if only they could talk. He was eager for the feeling of belonging somewhere again. Somewhere that was a real place, a house, a city, and not only Iwaizumi’s arms. Even if they were more than enough, most of the time.

There had always been something comforting about the steady and regular life of Sendai. Always seeing the same people, having a regular schedule of school, volleyball practice, dates, friends, and family time. He was missing Takeru, his nephew, the most. Oikawa wondered how much he’d grown in the months they hadn’t seen each other. Probably lots. After all, he was an Oikawa too.

“You’ve been surprisingly quiet since we left…” Iwaizumi noted, without turning to look at him. Even if there wasn’t a single trace of anger in his voice, Oikawa’s gut twisted at his words regardless.

“I’m worried about Bokuto,” he said, resting his chin on the heel of his hand. It was partially a lie and he knew Iwaizumi would find out very soon, but he needed to buy a little time, or at least try.

“He’s gonna be fine, they’re both gonna be fine,” Iwaizumi nodded. “Now, could you please tell me what’s really on your mind? If it was Bokuto you’d already have rambled the shit out of it and not fallen dead silent.”

“Well…there’s something I wanted to talk with you about,” he sighed, shaking the volleyball magazine he was nervously rolling in his hands. Of course his charade didn’t last long. “The photographer asked me if I’d ever considered modeling.”

“And have you?” Iwaizumi’s tone didn’t change but his jaw tightened visibly, tensing all the muscles in his neck and shoulders.

At the question, an incoherent whirlwind of images flashed before his eyes. The colors, the lights, the set, all those people running around them, all those hands fixing his clothes, his hair, his makeup. The constant flash of the camera that never made him squint, the warm presence of Bokuto by his side, his laugh making him forget that they were shooting for such a big deal as the cover of the most important volleyball magazine. But, even in his solo shots, he felt so powerful before the camera, almost invincible. He enjoyed it, more than he’d admitted right after. For Bokuto it was a simple duty that he accomplished diligently, but for Oikawa it has been something more. He felt validated.

“I actually have,” Oikawa admitted, swallowing hard. “He said that with my height and body I could do anything, and it could be a great way to earn some extra money and it would put me in the spotlight for upcoming sponsorships too but -”

“If you want to do it, I’m not gonna be the one holding you back,” Iwaizumi nodded, turning his head to look at Oikawa briefly in the eyes for the first time since the conversation started. His eyes were as soft as the hint of a smile that was spreading across his lips.

“But -” Oikawa tried to protest, but Iwaizumi cut him off again.

“It’s gonna be hard to share your beauty with so many other people...but that’s the price to pay for having you, I guess,” he shrugged with a nervous laugh, looking at the road again.

“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa breathed out in a quavering whisper, wondering what he’d done to deserve someone that perfect and supportive in his life. He wished he was able to be half as good a man as he was. “So, you’re finally admitting that I am beautiful?” Oikawa teased, clearing his throat to get rid of the knot of emotions that was starting to form.

“No. I don’t care what people say, in my eyes you’ll always be the ugliest person on the planet. Repulsive body and even more unpleasant personality,” Iwaizumi smirked, shaking his head like he did every time Oikawa said something ridiculous.

“Well, that’s the only thing that matters to me then,” Oikawa beamed, searching for Iwaizumi’s hand on the gear level and intertwining their fingers together.

Iwaizumi brought their connected hands to his mouth, pressing a strong kiss on the back of Oikawa’s, without taking his eyes off the road.

Oikawa turned his head and looked at him intently, enjoying how the street lights were running across his otherwise dark face, like brush strokes made of blazing yellow paint. He always liked watching Iwaizumi driving, there was something extremely sexy in the way his features tensed in concentration, in the way his strong arms flexed at every movement, in the way his wrist darted nervously every time his fingers gripped tighter around the wheel.

Oikawa smiled to himself, thinking about how oddly wonderful Iwaizumi’s ways to tell him how much he loved him always were.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “From now on, I need you to be more specific on which kind of hunger you’re talking about…”

The apartment was nothing like Akaashi had expected it to be. It was small,  _ very _ small for his standards, but still cozy and warm. He knew Bokuto, despite his outrageous wealth, was more than used to living basically and never made a fuss about staying in humble places. Truth be told, Bokuto would have happily spent a whole month sleeping on the floor of Shinzen High School, like they did during the summer training camps, rather that a whole week in his own home. 

But that place was different, and everything screamed how much Bokuto enjoyed staying there. It was his, and Oikawa’s. Every single corner of the house told a story about them, from Oikawa’s drawings on the walls, to the pictures of the two of them with every possible Snapchat filter that were pinned to cover almost the entire surface of the fridge, their university books, the pile of video games they played on lazy days.

Once again, Akaashi felt like he was invading another’s couple privacy. Too bad one of the two was his own boyfriend.

Akaashi reached for a sketchbook that was left on the coffee table. He flipped through the pages filled with buildings, parks, and people. There were a lot of drawings of Iwaizumi, as expected, but a young woman with a little child was another recurrent subject. And, of course, Bokuto. Akaashi’s hands trembled when he saw a drawing of Bokuto sleeping, probably naked, holding a pillow to his chest like he always did when he was sleeping alone. From the light frown on Bokuto’s forehead to the perfect mess of sheets that was wrapped around his lower body, the realism was striking. It was like looking at a drawing of a marble statue. Every single muscle of his body was perfectly shaded and Akaashi’s gut twisted at the thought of how much time Oikawa had spent sat somewhere, just watching Bokuto sleeping and drawing him.

“I think it’s safe to say that tonight was a complete mess,” Bokuto said dropping himself on the couch next to Akaashi.

“I’m sorry, this for sure wasn’t the quiet and friendly night you wanted. I’m so embarrassed at myself,” Akaashi admitted. He was feeling really, genuinely, sorry.

“All’s well that ends well, so don’t be. And you know I like messy things, anyway,” Bokuto winked.

Akaashi noticed that Bokuto’s eyes were on him but he wasn’t really watching him. There was something off with Bokuto, but he tried to ignore the feeling, maybe it was just the tension of the night still lingering in.

But nothing seemed able to make him relax. Not their light chat, not eating all the ice cream that was left, not watching those silly videos on YouTube that Bokuto liked so much, not engaging in a water splash war while brushing their teeth together. Everything seemed to just worsen the situation, which became unbearable the moment they quietly got into bed.

When Akaashi moved forward to rest his head on his chest, like he always did on the nights they slept together, and Bokuto tensed under his skin, he knew there was something more going on, something big he couldn’t ignore anymore.

“Oya?” Akaashi asked, with a hint of a playful smile on his lips.

Bokuto closed his eyes, dropping his head back against the wall. He sighed deeply before answering Akaashi’s question.

“How does this sex thing work, Akaash-?” he asked, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

Oh,  _ that _ .

“You know you don’t have to worry about it, I-” Akaashi started, but Bokuto cut him off.

“No, I want to do it. I want you. I think about it everyday Akaashi, I can’t stop thinking about it but...I don’t know how to do it, so I figured I would just ask you,” he said, looking at Akaashi with a disarming sincerity in his eyes.

“You know you can ask me anything,” Akaashi smiled, stroking his thumb gently on Bokuto’s cheek. He felt him relax under his touch, a good sign. “But it’s hard to explain with words,” Akaashi continued, pushing himself up and sitting down on top of him, squeezing Bokuto’s hips between his thighs. The sudden change of position got the desired effect and now Bokuto was meeting his gaze straight on, with his big golden eyes wide open in a mixture of desire and fear. Akaashi leaned forward, placing a hand on Bokuto’s chest, feeling his heart beating furiously under his touch. “But let me show you, Bokuto-san,” he whispered in his ear, starting to slowly kiss his neck.

Akaashi’s mouth travelled along Bokuto’s jaw and hovered above his lips, brushing lightly at first and then closing the distance between them. The kiss was delicate, almost tentative, but it took no time to open up, lips pressing way more forcefully each time and tongues meeting and playing with each other, making groans escape from the bottom of both their throats.

Bokuto gripped tightly at the hem of Akaashi’s shirt, breaking the kiss to pull it over his head and throw it away. For a couple of moments, Bokuto did nothing but stare at Akaashi, and there was something in the way that he looked at him, so amazed but yet so hungry, that made jolts of excitement explode all the way through his body.  Bokuto was making him feel like he was the only boy in the world, like no one mattered to him more, and nothing could arouse him as much as being the center of Bokuto’s attention and desire.

It was not about how much Bokuto belonged to Akaashi, but how much Akaashi, with every fiber of his body, every thought of his mind, every beat of his heart, belonged to him.

Before Bokuto could lean forward to close their mouths together again, Akaashi did the same and stripped off his shirt, hiding how his hands were trembling in a giggle at how his long platinum and black hair flew everywhere in disarray. But the laugh died in his throat as soon as his eyes fell on Bokuto’s broad chest and perfectly ripped stomach.

He had seen Bokuto shirtless before, obviously. Shirtless, naked, everything. After all, they’d showered and had baths together as a team countless times. Akaashi always did his best to avert his eyes back in the day, feeling guilty and unprofessional every time he sneaked a peek at Bokuto’s smooth, toned body. He had always been insanely fit even in his high school days, but the months of intense training in college was making his body reach near perfection. When Bokuto looked at him visibly pleased by his reaction, Akaashi felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest.

Akaashi never dared to imagine himself in the position he was now, straddling Bokuto, stroking his chest as he thrust his hips against him experimentally. Bokuto moaned as Akaashi brushed his tongue over the spot between his collarbones, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure. Akaashi continued, placing kisses all along his sternum and, when he swiped his tongue over his nipples, Bokuto shook under his lips.

“I guess you discovered my weak spot,” Bokuto said, slightly out of breath.

“Are you sure about that?” Akaashi smirked, tilting his head to one side and raising his eyebrows mischievously.

Instead of waiting for an answer, Akaashi moved lower down his body, leaving a trail of kisses all the way from Bokuto’s stomach to his inner thighs, carefully avoiding his groin.

“You’re still wearing the high knee pads, right?” Akaashi asked, brushing his nose up and down, feeling Bokuto’s muscles clench under his breath.

“Yes, wh-” Bokuto’s question was cut off by Akaashi’s firm bite. He sank his teeth in and sucked until he was sure to have left a bruise there, smiling at the sounds that were coming from his boyfriend.

“Nevermind, I think  _ that’s _ my weak spot,” Bokuto breathed out, grasping at the sheets and tensing his whole body, possibly trying to stay as still as possible.

“Are you sure about that?” Akaashi smirked again, mimicking the exact same tone he used before. He darted his tongue out, licking up his leg still biting here and there, till he reached the elastic band of Bokuto’s dark boxers that were dangerously outlining his already full erection. Akaashi bit his bottom lip in anticipation.

“May I?” he asked, deliberately maintaining the eye contact while his fingers slipped under the thin fabric of Bokuto’s underwear.

“P-please…” Bokuto managed to say, raising his hips a bit.

Akaashi took his movement as an encouragement to go on and peeled the boxers away in one smooth move. He knew he could have all the time in the world to take it slow and to tease him more, but something in the back of his mind told him not to. He’d never been with a person who had no experience at all, he’d never been anyone’s  _ first _ , but even if he had, all the previous experience would have meant nothing, not when there was Bokuto on the other side. Bokuto who was now looking at him with eyes filled in equal part with lust and trust, his face flushed up to the tips of his ears.

Akaashi wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock and traced all the thick length of it with his tongue. When he reached the tip and his lips sucked it in, a ragged moan of pleasure came from Bokuto, so loud it went straight to Akaashi’s own dick. He felt Bokuto’s hands lace through his hair as he started to slowly bob his head up and down, taking him inside his mouth deeper every time.

When the sounds coming from Bokuto rose incredibly loud, Akaashi pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I guess that’s my true weak spot,” Bokuto muttered, voice deep and hoarse.

Akaashi couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “That’s exactly what I wanted to prove,” he said, pulling himself up to cover Bokuto’s mouth with that same smile.

“I taste good,” Bokuto said between the kisses. “You taste good, too.”

“We taste good,” Akaashi agreed in a little nod.

They looked at each other for a long time as a tense silence fell between them. Bokuto’s hands slid down to Akaashi’s hips, firmly holding his ass between his strong fingers, pulling him closer, so much that his stomach crashed against Bokuto’s mouth, who instantly started to kiss it, as his hands slowly ventured under his briefs. Akaashi dug his fingers into Bokuto’s broad shoulders, as he felt one of his fingers idly playing against his entrance. He slowly started to grind against Bokuto’s shoulder to make his painfully hard cock feel some friction.

“D-do you want to do it?” Akaashi’s panted, still moving between Bokuto’s fingers and hot body. Truth be told, he could have come on the spot just like that.

“Yes, do you?” Bokuto asked, voice suddenly hesitant.

“I do, I want everything with you,” Akaashi said in his ear.

Bokuto pushed Akaashi back on the bed and freed him from his last piece of clothing. Instead of jumping on him like Akaashi expected him to, he rolled to the other side of the bed, rummaging in the drawer.

“Ok, we have: peach, cherry, tropical fruit, mint, and vanilla,” Bokuto declared, counting each scent on the tip of his fingers.

Akaashi popped up on his elbows, blinking a couple of times in disbelief. “Why on earth do you have that many to choose from?”

“I mean, I live with Oikawa Tooru...in this house there’s more lube than hairspray, which says it all,” Bokuto shrugged.

“I’ll go with peach, I guess,” Akaashi sighed, realizing that probably Oikawa himself crafted the selection in that drawer and even took his time to teach Bokuto how to use it. Without any practical demonstration, he hoped. Akaashi looked down at his cock and was surprised to find it as hard as it was before that absurd conversation. He glanced at Bokuto, who was in the exact same situation, gladly.

Bokuto coated his fingers with a generous amount of lube and laid down on the bed again, smiling softly at Akaashi. “Come here,” he called.

Akaashi shifted closer, wrapping a leg around Bokuto’s hip and both his arms around his shoulders, closing the distance between them. His breath quivered when he felt Bokuto pressing at his hole again, slowly pushing one finger inside. His faltering moves were a tell tale sign that he didn’t know what to do, but Akaashi just relaxed, leaning into his touch even more and moving slightly to guide Bokuto’s fingers inside him. Bokuto probably sensed that he was ready and pushed another finger inside, this time moving all the way in and out, again and again, stealing a gasped groan from Akaashi every single time.

Bokuto’s fingers felt so good inside him that he could have come just from that. His movements grew in intensity and when Bokuto, by fate or by chance, hit that spot inside him, the one that alone was able to drive him completely crazy, Akaashi gave in to his urgency.

“I’m...I’m ready,” Akaashi gasped, wrapping his long fingers around Bokuto’s wrist and pulling him out. He let himself fall back on the bed, freeing Bokuto who was already unwrapping the condom, rolling it down not so smoothly. It was clear he wasn’t used doing it, but Akaashi didn’t care, all boys had been there and, after all, what he needed was just a little more practice. And knowing how serious and relentless Bokuto was when it came to perfecting his moves, Akaashi was eagerly looking forward to it.

Bokuto placed himself on top of him, his eyes unable to stay still. Akaashi wrapped his legs around his hips and placed a hand on his cheek.

“Don’t be nervous, it’s just me,” Akaashi tried to comfort him, but he knew him way better than to not recognize that particular rise and fall of his chest, that darker shade of his eyes, the way his arms were starting to tremble from where they were pressed just above Akaashi’s shoulders. Bokuto was thinking and that would only lead him to grow nervous, and it was a short slide from nervous to anxious. And anxiety was what usually triggered his episodes; he’d seen it happen too many times already on court.

Bokuto looked at him, his frown deep above his eyes. He nodded with a sigh and carefully guided his tip to Akaashi’s entrance. But, as soon as he pressed more, Akaashi’s breath hitched in his throat, letting out a faint hiss of pain.

“I- I can’t do this Akaashi. I want to but...I can’t. I’m so sorry.” Bokuto pushed himself away and curled in a ball in the farthest corner of the bed. Akaashi followed him immediately, sitting down and hugging him, his lips pressed on the warm skin of his shoulder. Bokuto raised his head a little, dropping his forehead against his. “I...I don’t want to hurt you,” he said in a whisper of a voice.

“You won’t hurt me, you never have and never will. It’s just...normal, at the beginning.” Akaashi pressed his forehead a little more, to reinforce his statement.

“You...you’re really experienced, aren’t you? You should..I can’t…” Bokuto tried to say turning his head away, but Akaashi held him back in place, searching for his eyes again.

“Kou,” he tried to revert the conversation back to Bokuto, in an attempt to avoid talking about how extensive his sex life had been. “Kou look at me. It’s fine, everything’s fine. No one said we had to do it right here right now. This...this was more than enough for me. Being here, feeling the warmth of your skin on mine...it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I just want you. All of you, not just the bright side.”

Bokuto’s lost eyes were shining bright in the dim light, he looked so defenceless it made Akaashi’s heart ache. Bokuto truly was the purest person he had ever met.

“You’re the person that matters the most to me, I don’t want you to think that I’m here because I expect you to please me!” Akaashi said, maybe a little to forcefully, but he needed to be sure Bokuto was listening to him. “And I don’t care what people expect us to do...the only thing that I care about is that you’re alright.”

“But you…” Bokuto started, but Akaashi shushed his protest with a chaste kiss.

“I’ll  _ always _ want you. Always,” he said against his mouth. “We can do it tomorrow, in two months or never but this won’t change.”

Bokuto kissed him back, finally uncurling his body to welcome Akaashi in a warm embrace. Akaashi squeezed him tight, making him laugh a little when he rolled the unused condom off his dick. There wasn’t anything sensual this time, but still it felt like an incredibly intimate gesture.

“Can we sleep naked though?” Bokuto asked, just when Akaashi was about to pick up their discarded underwear from the floor.

Akaashi let the clothes fall back to the floor and went to bed, resting his head on Bokuto’s chest and tangling their legs together. “Of course we can,” he smiled, closing his eyes and letting Bokuto’s now steady heartbeat lull him into sleep.

 

=

 

Akaashi was hit in the eyes by a direct ray of sunlight. He sighed deeply. For someone who needed absolute darkness to sleep, the fact that Bokuto never bothered to close the shutters was a true curse, but not that morning. He was grateful for the daylight that was invading the room, painting their naked bodies, as well as the immaculate sheets, a warm pale orange color. 

Akaashi took a deep breath and relaxed on the bed again. Feeling Bokuto’s arms around his waist, he wondered if Bokuto held Oikawa the same way, that night they slept together. A jolt of jealousy run through his body. He knew nothing could happen between the two of them, it didn’t back then and it wouldn’t happen in the future, but still the mental image of the two of them sleeping together in that same bed couldn’t seem to leave his mind. He was used to sharing Bokuto with the whole world, but he knew that, at the end of the day, he was only his, even when they weren’t together. He was his captain, his best friend, his most important person. It was enough for Oikawa to have taken his spot as Bokuto’s setter, why did he have to take everything else? Despite everything, he would probably never stop being jealous of Oikawa, how could a person not be when the boy had it all? The most annoying thing was that Oikawa truly was a genuine likable guy, who tried his best to make him feel welcomed, and he gave him back nothing but childish animosity. Akaashi sighed, disappointed by his own pettiness.

Suddenly, a shiver made Akaashi arch his spine. It took a couple of seconds for Akaashi to realize what had caused it but, when he did, he gasped, snapping his eyes open. Bokuto was leaving a trail of hot kisses on his back, slowly climbing up his spine. Akaashi’s breath started to race as he could do nothing but lean back into his lips.

Warmth spread like wildfire from where Bokuto’s lips brushed on his spine straight down to his fingers and toes. When Bokuto reached the base of his neck, Akaashi was already painfully hard. Bokuto nuzzled a bit, while his hands were slowly travelling towards Akaashi’s hip, outlining each muscle of his clenched abs. Bokuto’s fingers wrapped without hesitation around his cock, making Akaashi drop his head back in a muffled moan of pleasure. He didn’t understand what he was doing, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him.

As he felt Bokuto smiling against the skin of his neck, Akaashi’s mind went black with burning desire. He craved him and every inch of that body, his hands, his powerful arms, his boiling lips. He wanted to be the center of his always shifting attention, to feel how much Bokuto wanted him, and him alone, too. For a moment nothing mattered anymore, all their past and present lives and problems were shut outside the door. It was just them and their lust dripping bodies.

Akaashi let out a loud cry when Bokuto rubbed his thumb on the tip of his dick, taking advantage of the precome that was already spilling. Akaashi instinctively pressed his bum back, his body knowing what he wanted before his brain could process the silent request. The answer took no time to arrive. Bokuto let Akaashi’s cock go and stroked his fingers back to his ass, idly playing at his entrance. Akaashi let out a frustrated hiss as he arched his back even more. Even if he couldn’t see him, Bokuto seemed to be utterly satisfied with seeing Akaashi in such a demanding state, so much that he finally gave in and worked his way inside him with his fingers, slowly at first and then each time deeper and faster as he heard the sounds pouring out of Akaashi’s mouth grow louder.

Bokuto’s fingers never stopped moving and his lips never left his neck but still Akaashi felt Bokuto shifting away from him slightly. When he heard the rustling of the condom wrapper and the fruity smell of lube, Akaashi’s whole body tensed with a mixture of anticipation and concern, but he did his best not to show it, not to break his momentum. Bokuto’s nails dug deep into Akaashi’s hip one last time before he took out his fingers with a move so sharp it made him cry out, but the sound was nothing compared to the one he made when he felt the stiff length of Bokuto’s cock pressing against the ring of his muscles, stretching him open even more.

Bokuto was groaning deeply in Akaashi’s ear, sending jolts of pleasure so sweet they mingled with the initial pain almost immediately. With a couple of thrusts, Bokuto was deep inside of him, not a single inch left between them.

It was it. He did it. They did it.

Bokuto slid an arm around pulling him even closer, intertwining their fingers together and pressing their hands against Akaashi’s panting chest, while his other hand came back and resumed to jerk him off.

Akaashi didn’t know what kind of sex he’d been used to, but with Bokuto everything was completely different. He felt like he’d never had sex before either. Bokuto’s movements were slower and deeper, hitting with killer precision exactly the right spots inside him, while his hand was moving in perfect sync with his hips. Because of course Bokuto would go from zero to sex god within a night. Of fucking course.

Without warning, Bokuto pulled out completely, pushed Akaashi on his back and rolled over him.

“I want to look at you,” he panted, his already raspy voice made even harsher by the mix of sleep and lust. When Akaashi looked up at him, he stopped breathing. His black and silver locks were falling freely over his face, his cheeks were flushed red, making his golden eyes stand out even more. When Akaashi’s eyes fell on Bokuto’s lips, he grasped at the back of his neck, pulling him down into a ravishing kiss.

Akaashi gasped against Bokuto’s mouth as he felt him inside him again. His hand traveled down his spine, lingering in the sensation of Bokuto’s back muscles clenching under his fingers. He would never get over how perfect his body was. He could remember how he stopped breathing the first time he saw him in the bath. He thought he would get used to the sight of those illegal features in the upcoming two years, but he was wrong. Bokuto did nothing but grow more perfect each day, testing his self control and his lust management skills. He was everything he’d ever desired and now he was there, he was his, he was inside and all over him.

He wanted it so much it was now too much to take. Akaashi pressed his body even closer to Bokuto’s and, at the last thrust, his vision went completely white, overwhelmed by ecstasy, lust and exhaustion. With a wrenching scream, Akaashi came hard, his eyes flying wide open as white hot pleasure rolled through him. Without pulling out, Bokuto started slamming his cock into him more violently, with bone-jarring thrusts that rocked both of them. Akaashi had to barely squeeze his inners muscles to break Bokuto’s ragged moans, making him come inside him in a carnival of spasms and incoherent swearing. Bokuto looked him in the eyes for a brief moment, before collapsing above him. He was heavy, heavier than usual, but Akaashi didn’t mind.

They were both panting harshly, Akaashi above his shoulder and Bokuto against the side of his neck; his breath so hot against his sensitized skin it was making him nearly burn. There was a fine sheen of sweat across both of them, their chests rising and falling rapidly against each other. Akaashi could feel Bokuto’s toned stomach pressing against his own and the fierce pounding of his heart.

When Bokuto finally propped himself up on his elbows, Akaashi took a deep breath, turning his head to watch his lover again. There was a flash of a half smile as they made eye contact, but then Bokuto blinked and the affectionate expression was gone, replaced by a hint of uncertainty. There was a moment when they just looked at each other, navy eyes lost in the golden ones, then Bokuto made a low sound deep in his throat and rubbed his fingers against Akaashi’s forehead, brushing his sweaty hair away.

“Hey…” he said, voice still slightly hoarse.

“Good morning,” Akaashi laughed, hiding his embarrassed expression behind his hands.

Bokuto laid on one side and wrapped his arms around Akaashi’s hips again, pulling him closer despite the mess that their bodies were in the aftermath of that unexpected and mind-blowing sex.

“I’m hungry now,” he said, rubbing his nose on Akaashi’s cheek. He smiled, a little bit lopsided, and Akaashi noticed how it was incredibly boyish in its charm.

“From now on, I need you to be more specific on which kind of hunger you’re talking about…” Akaashi looked up to meet him directly in the eyes.

Bokuto dug his teeth in and sucked a bruise in Akaashi’s shoulder in response. 


	3. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As long as he had Akaashi on close to him, he would always feel at home.

Bokuto pushed the door open and immediately jumped out of his clothes, leaving the soaked mass of fabric discarded on the floor. As Akaashi was doing the same behind him, Bokuto looked around the big hall, sighing. It had been months since the last time he’d been in his own home and he wasn’t surprised at all to find it completely deserted. Why his parents kept adamantly refusing to sell it for a smaller one was still a mystery to him. After all, with him living on the campus with Oikawa and them being always abroad, there was no reason. Maybe they were just fond of it, maybe they were hoping for him to move back in once college was over. Maybe they just didn’t care that much.  

Even if felt like no human had been inside for ages, the house was immaculate, with not a single trace of dust on the furniture and the clear marble was shining bright and cold under Bokuto’s bare feet. He walked slowly to the floor to ceiling windows that dominated the living room, attracted by the spectacle of wind, rain and lightning that was hitting Tokyo at that moment. He always liked stormy weather, maybe because it was the only one he could relate too. He knew that people often compared him to the sunniest of days, but he never really understood why.  _ “I wish you could see yourself sometimes, when you play you shine brighter than the sun,”  _ Oikawa once told him. Bokuto shook his head and smiled bitterly at the thought.

No one ever knew how difficult it was to be the sun, when all you have inside is violence and storm. He managed to give people the warmth they needed, while keeping the rest to himself. But things had been better lately. His mind would probably never heal, he was more than aware of that, but at least he was feeling less sick than usual. It was like living in a constant post-tsunami state of mind, where everything was calm, devastated, but still calm. The impending fear that a new wave could hit any second was just a light buzzing feeling in the very back of his brain, pushed where everything was darker, in that place where he never dared to venture.

“You should put something on, you’re shaking,” Akaashi’s light voice snapped Bokuto back to reality. He was so absorbed in his mind that he didn’t realized Akaashi was holding him from behind, arms looped around his hips and cheek pressed against his shoulder blade. He was naked, too, he could feel his goosebumps on his skin.

“Sorry,” Bokuto replied, almost automatically, turning inside Akaashi’s arms to face him. He pressed him closer, resting his chin on the top of his head, inhaling deeply the scent of his hair that was now mixed with the earthy one of rain.

“For what?” Akaashi asked, rubbing his thumbs on Bokuto’s lower back, searching for the dimples at the bottom of his spine he loved so much.

“I spaced out…” Bokuto said, still glancing at the storm outside the window. If possible, its intensity grew even more and the wind shears were now slamming the rain hard against the thick soundproof glass. It was a beautiful contrast with the peace that was dominating the inside of the apartment.   

“You know I’m used to it,” Akaashi smiled, holding him a little tighter.

“I wish you weren’t,” Bokuto shook his head and tried to free himself from the embrace, but Akaashi was unmovable.

“Hey…” he called him, placing a hand on Bokuto’s cheek, gently but firmly at the same time, forcing their eyes to meet. The cobalt blue ones lingered in the golden for long moment, unblinking. “I love you,” Akaashi said simply, softening his expression.

Bokuto opened his mouth to say something in return, but no sound could escape his mouth. It was the first time Bokuto heard him say those three words. Akaashi always found other ways to express it, to reply to the infinite times Bokuto said them to him, and in truth Bokuto never minded, he knew that Akaashi loved him, even if he never said it out loud. But hearing his voice saying them, like it was the most natural thing in the world, made Bokuto’s world crumble around him. He never knew he could ever be so overwhelmingly happy.

“I love you too, oh my god.” Bokuto blinked to get rid of his blurry vision, but a tear escaped and ran down his cheek. Akaashi stepped on his tiptoes and collected it with his lips, like he did so many months ago in the locker room of the Fukurodani Academy. Bokuto shifted his face to brush their lips together in a delicate kiss. Akaashi tangled both his hands in Bokuto’s hair to pull him down a little and kiss him deeper, tongue against tongue and hips pressed together, only the thin fabric of their underwear to separate them.

“Your hair is so long now…” Akaashi murmured, running his hands to gather all the ends in a small ponytail at the base of Bokuto’s neck.

“Should I cut it?” Bokuto asked, blowing away the fringe that was starting to tickle his nose. The rain that surprised them in the streets ruined his precious hairspray work and now his hair was falling freely everywhere. And yes, it was long, far longer than usual. Bokuto even thought about stopping dyeing it and going with a full silver mane, like when he was a child. Oikawa said no because his two toned hair was his  _ brand _ , whatever that may have meant, and he ultimately decided against it too. With time he grew fond of the black locks, the mix with his natural color somehow represented him even more.

“Don’t you dare!” Akaashi giggled, unravelling the ponytail and sliding his arms back down, fingers slowly stroking along Bokuto’s naked spine. It was one of those light laughs that made Bokuto’s life feel lighter. “Do you remember the first time I came here?” he asked, not breaking the eye contact.

“Of course, how I could forget.” Bokuto smiled, looking around. In his mind he went back to that day three years before, and he could picture him and Akaashi awkwardly sat next to each other on the big couch, both dressed in their Fukurodani school uniform. Akaashi all proper and neat, while Bokuto had his sleeves rolled up and his tie undone on the collar of his open shirt, like always. Akaashi came by because Bokuto forgot half of his stuff in the gym, a day he was particularly upset. Bokuto could still see how the red rays of the sunset hit Akaashi’s face, in a dance of warm colors and dark shadows. His eyes were so blue, it was like looking in the heart of the ocean. It felt like an eternity has passed, they were both so young and he, especially, so stupid. “I wanted to kiss you so much,” Bokuto sighed.

Akaashi didn’t answer, he just brushed Bokuto’s hair away from his face and kissed him again. “I was so nervous, you know? You always made me nervous,” he admitted with a chuckle.

“Nervous?” Bokuto echoed, frowning.

“Yes. You didn’t just start being  _ Bokuto Koutaoru _ now that you’re in college,” he said, putting his name in air quotes. He took a couple of steps away, looking around with curiosity. “And this penthouse was just the cherry on top. I’ve always liked it, it’s the most beautiful house I’ve ever been in.”

“Oh, thanks…” Bokuto said, scratching the back of his neck. It was strange to hear Akaashi saying things like that, like his home wasn’t just as beautiful. It was, and Bokuto liked it way more than his own, but maybe just because it smelled like Akaashi.

Akaashi stepped in front of the shelves where a lot of photographs were placed, in all kinds of different shaped frames. Bokuto walked next to him and sighed deeply, looking at all of them one by one. There was his favorite childhood picture, where he was a chubby little toddler in the arms of his mother, stunning like always in a thin linen dress and her beautiful waterfall of platinum hair. She was looking down a him with a loving smile, sat in a lemon garden somewhere in the south of Italy. If he closed his eyes, Bokuto could still smell the perfume of the citruses and the sea. After that, there were a lot of other pictures that followed his growth, displaying the lie that was his happy and perfect family.

He turned his head and found Akaashi looking intently at the picture of the day they won the Nationals, the same that was still displayed in the hall of the Fukurodani Academy. That had probably been the happiest day of his life and so many times he really thought he would have given up everything just to live it once again. His new team was great and having Oikawa there with him was surely a great help, but the Fukurodani VBC was his home, and it always would be. Maybe Akaashi was right when he said they would never accomplish such greatness as the one they accomplished together.

“I love and hate this picture at the same time,” Akaashi said, never tearing his eyes away from it. “It’s so painful looking at it every day, it always reminds me of how beautiful and happy we were, but mostly that you’re no longer here with me.”

“But I am now,” Bokuto said, softly kissing his temple.

“Thankfully…” Akaashi smiled, leaning into the kiss and intertwining their fingers together. “Have you ever taken Oikawa-san here?” he asked, starting to walk away from the shelf.

“No, never,” Bokuto shrugged, following him.

“You should, he would have an architectural orgasm,” Akaashi smiled, stroking a finger across the dark wood of the piano that was placed in the far corner of the living room, right next to the windows. Bokuto took a moment to just look at him and at how the bits of dust were dancing in the light around him. It was feeling like he belonged there and Bokuto was hit by the intense need to see Akaashi there every day, to eat breakfast every morning with him, to even learn how to cook just to please him. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as soon as it popped up. They couldn’t live together. Not now that Akaashi was still in school and he was still in college. But one day...one day they would, Bokuto was sure of it.

“I never thought about it, you know I’m not the kind of guy who likes to brag,” Bokuto laughed, crossing his arms. At that, Akaashi replied just by giving him an “ _ are-you-kidding-me?”  _ look.  

“Ok, ok, you’re right,” Bokuto rolled his eyes, pulling Akaashi back to him once more. He was already missing the heat of his body.

“Would you play something for me?” Akaashi asked, nodding towards the piano.

Bokuto blinked a couple of times. “I haven’t played for almost a year now…”

“Don’t be shy, it’s like riding a bike...or spiking a ball,” he winked.

“How do you know? You don’t play any instruments…” Bokuto tried to protest, but Akaashi’s stare was impossibly firm, he just raised an awaiting eyebrow in response. The staring game went on for just a couple of seconds before Bokuto gave up. “Teach me how to say no to you…” he said, dropping his forehead against his.

“Never,” Akaashi whispered in his ear, making Bokuto shiver under the ghost touch of his lips.

Bokuto kissed him gently on the neck before sitting down on the bench. He moved his fingers a little, the same way he always did before a jump serve. He noticed that there was no score on the music stand, but he didn’t care. He never needed one anyway. Akaashi was looking at him, resting his head on the heel of his hand and the rest of his body against the piano. He smiled and Bokuto inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

It took just a couple of tentative strikes of the keys for Bokuto to find the flow. Maybe Akaashi was right, it truly was something that he couldn’t forget, no matter how many months had passed. As the notes begin to pile over each other and his fingers to move like they had a life of their own, Bokuto was hit by an intense wave of warm memories. Behind his still closed eyelids flashed the images of his childhood, of him sat there in that exact same spot with his beloved maid, Ikuko, by his side. She was the one who discovered that classical music was one of the only things able to calm him during his episodes. She didn’t simply play over his screaming rage, she made sure he learned how to play too, so that he could help himself when she wasn’t there to help him. As the memories progressed, Bokuto leaned into the piano, remembering all those night alone in that house that always felt too big for him, making him feel even more alone, in which he desperately played, again and again, the same music he was playing now, his favorite one, the one that made him feel safer, the last one she taught him before passing away. His anger fueled the notes and the long chain of his breakdowns had the side effect of making him an incredibly skilled pianist.

But no one knew about that, no one except Akaashi. The thought of him, the relief of his presence right there, the smell of love and comfort that he always carried with him, the fact only that he existed there and in that moment with him was enough. Together, they could be enough.

His fingers were gliding, chasing the notes like clouds chase each other in the sky, in a crescendo that made him pour all of himself into the music, so much that, when he hit the last note, he found himself slouched over the keyboard, panting with his head down. While his mind was spinning and his vision got blurry, he realized that he never thought once about the notes, he just...did it. He played the entire song but he didn’t even know how.

“That was beautiful, Kou,” Akaashi said softly, placing a kiss at the base of his neck, hugging Bokuto tight from behind. He was sat next to him, but if he just did it or if he was there next to him all along, Bokuto couldn’t tell.

Before his breath could even again, Bokuto picked Akaashi up with a sudden move and sat him down on the piano, so they were at the same eye level. Akaashi looped his legs around Bokuto’s body and grasped the sides of the instrument with his hands, watching Bokuto in excited confusion. They look at each other for a long moment, without exchanging a single word, until Akaashi pulled him forward and crashed their mouths together.

The delicate kisses they shared before were completely forgotten when his tongue slid into Bokuto’s mouth with a groan of pleasure. The kiss grew in intensity, becoming wet and sloppy in no time. Akaashi’s mouth travelled to the sensitive skin under Bokuto’s ear, sucking and biting, the spikes of pain-pleasure so intense they made goose pimples erupt on his body and a feral growl escape from his mouth.

Bokuto reluctantly pulled away and pushed Akaashi down to lay flat on his back. He took a moment to just look at him and at the perfection of his slender body, at how the coldness of the wood was making his back arch, at the way his skin covered his muscles like it was made of silk, at those half lidded eyes that were staring hungrily at him, at the mess of his raven hair. He was the most beautiful boy he had ever seen, Bokuto still struggled to believe that he was his. Only his.

He leaned forward and mapped out Akaashi’s chest and stomach with his tongue, biting gently on his nipples, sucking hard where the skin was softer. He stroked his tongue down to his groin, caressing Akaashi’s clothed erection with the tip of his nose, letting out a hot breath that made Akaashi startle. His hand automatically reached Bokuto’s head, gripping hard at his scalp in anticipation.

“People could see us from the windows, you know...” Bokuto raised his gaze to meet Akaashi’s eyes. His tone and the way he licked his lips saying it made sure to highlight that it wasn’t really much of a concern to him.

“Make sure they’ll see a great show then,” Akaashi smiled, biting his bottom lip.

The corner of Bokuto’s lips went up in a smirk. With a sudden move, he freed himself from Akaashi’s grip and tugged at his hips, flipping him upside down and promptly pressing a hand on his upper back, to make him bend on the piano.

“What are -” Akaashi tried to protest, but his voice cut off the moment he felt Bokuto’s lips on the base of his spine, kissing gently as his hands were peeling off his underwear, exposing his arse.

“I just want to taste you,” Bokuto answered innocently, spreading his cheeks apart. He placed a bite just above the left one and then darted his tongue out, stealing a choked gasp from his lover. Akaashi never did this to him and he, of course, never did it either, but Bokuto was so greedy for Akaashi’s taste that he wanted to eat every inch of his skin, and his ass has always been particularly tempting.

He heard the noise of Akaashi’s fingers squeaking on the high-gloss black varnish of the piano, searching for a place to grip, as his legs were already shaking. Bokuto licked him out gently, almost tentatively at first, taking all his time to savor his taste on his tongue.

Akaashi was already panting harshly, grinding back on Bokuto’s face. He took it as a green light and wiggled his tongue sinfully before pushing it into him. From Akaashi came a sound Bokuto never heard before, so desperate and ruined it made the warmth in his gut explode through his veins like burning lava. With a fast move, Bokuto blocked Akaashi’s hand which was aiming at his own cock, while he never stopped fucking him with his tongue.

“P-please, I -” Akaashi whined, pushing himself up on one elbow. “I want…” he tried to continue, but couldn’t end that sentence either.

Taking pity on his boyfriend, Bokuto pulled away and stood up. “What do you want, love?” he whispered, leaning forward to brush his cheek against Akaashi’s.

“You,” he breathed out, trying to turn to kiss him, but Bokuto’s heavy body was making his every attempt to move impossible.

“Ok,” Bokuto answered, his voice low and thick with lust. He picked him up and slung him over his shoulder and, when Akaashi tried to protest, he shushed him with a powerful smack on his ass. Akaashi cried out a moan so hot it could have melted the entire North Pole and Bokuto had to collect all his strength not to come on the spot. Akaashi like to be spanked. Nice.

He climbed the stairs two by two in a flash, kicking his bedroom door open and throwing the both of them onto his bed. Bokuto landed on his back and Akaashi straddled him immediately, ripping off his boxers and leaning forward with his nails digging in his biceps. Bokuto looked into his eyes and he could swear he’d never seen Akaashi looking at him so eagerly. Akaashi’s lust was Bokuto’s favorite drug, and his eyes were pouring so much of it out to make him high just by a couple of seconds of eye contact.

Akaashi leaned forward even more, brushing his ass along Bokuto’s erection in the process. “Fuck me,” he purred, sucking on his earlobe.

Bokuto inhaled a sharp breath, closed his eyes for a moment and snapped them open right after. He threw Akaashi off of him, switching their position so he could tower over him. Bokuto stroked the back of his hand along Akaashi’s pale inner thighs, from his knee to his groin, collecting all his shivers in the process.

“We’re not home,” Bokuto said, sitting back on his heels. As soon as the sentence left his mouth he realized how incoherent he must have sounded. He, technically, was  _ home _ . “I mean, we don’t have the magic drawer here,” he added, frustration filling his voice.

“Guess who wins the best boyfriend award tonight?” Akaashi winked at him, popping up on his elbows. “I bought everything on my way to your place and it’s still in my bag downstairs.”

“I love you!” Bokuto beamed, cupping his face in his hands and placing a sloppy kiss on his lips.

“Me too, but hurry!” Akaashi snorted, pushing him off.

Bokuto rushed out of the room and got back as fast as he could. He stepped in ripping the condom wrapping with his teeth and found Akaashi laying on his stomach waiting for him, languidly fanning his long, dark eyelashes from where his cheek was pressed against the pillow, arching his back a little to push his ass up even more. Seeing Akaashi so needy made his arousal skyrocket. Being wanted so badly by him was the best feeling in the world.

He jumped on the bed and placed himself between Akaashi’s open legs, spreading a handful of lube on his ass. He was still opened up from the rimming session, but still Bokuto pressed his thumb inside him and was rewarded by a soft groan. He took his time to work with his fingers, sensing Akaashi’s impatience growing at every movement.

“Kou...please…” Akaashi cried, grinding back against Bokuto’s stomach.

“Please what, -Kashi?” Bokuto smirked, punctuating the sentence by sinking three fingers inside him with more force than necessary.

“...please, I want you,” Akaashi was able to say, after Bokuto’s last thrust cut his breath away.

“How much do you want me?” Bokuto teased him, proceeding to suck a hickey on the soft skin of Akaashi’s hip.

Akaashi was shaking under Bokuto’s lips and his answer came in the form of incoherent words piled up with dirty breaths. Bokuto tore his mouth away, pleased to see the dark bruise already starting to form. He liked to mark him almost as much as he liked to be marked by him. He never realized how possessive he was until they upgraded their relationship to a more intimate level. It wasn’t jealousy, it was pure possessiveness. Akaashi was his, and the entire world better get that news straight. And if his level of possessiveness was high, it was nothing compared to Akaashi’s.

Bokuto took out his fingers with a sharp tug and teased Akaashi’s entrance with his tip. When he felt Akaashi’s whole body shiver under his hands, Bokuto tightened the grip on his hips and pressed his dick inside him, releasing a breath of pleasure.

His own choked gasps started to mix with the carnal growls that were coming from Akaashi, and, in no time, Bokuto found himself fucking him almost senselessly. He was used to riding him at a much slower and deeper pace, never giving completely in to lust, not trusting himself and the dark back of his mind enough to let all his control go. He was scared to hurt him, to turn his violent side on someone else who wasn’t himself. He would have never forgiven himself for hurting Akaashi. Never.

But this time everything was different; safer and wilder at the same time. Bokuto’s eyes focused on the long fingers that were grasping at the sheets so tightly they were white-knuckled, on the muscles tightening in Akaashi’s back, on the wild sounds coming from his mouth. He was so good, so sexy, so needy it was mindblowing. Bokuto was moving even faster and harder, determined to see Akaashi completely lose it more than he always did.

Akaashi turned his head and looked at him with pleased disbelief. He raised his hips to meet Bokuto’s thrusts, his groans and begs for more growing louder and louder. He wanted Akaashi to beg him, to tell him how good and hot it felt when he hit him just right, to hear him scream from how full and stretched open he was. And, the second he really did, it drove Bokuto insane. He yanked Akaashi up until his back was pressed against his sweaty chest, keeping him in place with an arm around his shoulders, his elbow right under his chin.

Bokuto pressed his mouth on the spot where Akaashi’s neck met his shoulders and licked it before starting to suck hungrily. His gut twisted even more when he heard his name rolling off Akaashi’s tongue, while clenching around him, moving his ass to work his dick even if Bokuto was fucking him with increasing intensity. He was touching himself too, but Bokuto didn’t bother to stop him this time. 

“Yes, oh my god, yes!” Akaashi panted, dropping his head back against Bokuto’s shoulder. He was still riding back, but his movements were slowly losing force. His voice broke in the moment Bokuto pulled off just to shove his dick inside him again, aiming with his spiker precision to the spot that drove Akaashi crazy.  

A shudder went through Bokuto as he snapped his hips at a frenzied pace and the wild sounds of skin smacking against skin grew louder in the deserted apartment. Bokuto was panting harder, his own gasps raising in volume, but when just a ghost of a choked moan came from Akaashi, Bokuto realized in horror that he was almost strangling him. The moment he softened his grip was already too late. Akaashi’s now free voice reached a burning pitch as he tensed up, one hand around his dick and the other digging into Bokuto’s arm. He came in sobbing breaths and suddenly all his weight was left for Bokuto to hold, as his body was resting bonelessly in his arms. He held him closer as his gut ached and his vision turned white as his eyes squeezed shut, exploding in an orgasm that seemed to go on forever.

Bokuto sat on his heels again, completely spent, still holding Akaashi to his chest. He let himself fall on one side before freeing Akaashi from his arms, his body rolling just a couple of inches away from him. His eyes were closed but his chest was rising and falling at faster pace than usual. 

“K-Keiji?” Bokuto called him, still breathless.

Akaashi slowly opened his eyes, a tired smiled on his lips. “Yes?” he answered.

“You’re alive!” Bokuto jumped on and over him, making him rest above him. Only then, he squeezed him lightly in his arms. “I’m so sorry, really. Did I hurt you? Oh fuck, I’m sorry, really, I-”

Akaashi placed a finger on Bokuto’s lips to make him stop talking. “I’m fine! Actually, more than fine!” he giggled, placing a hand between his cheek and Bokuto’s chest. “It was...wow.”

“Wow?” Bokuto echoed, his silver eyebrows almost reaching his hairline.

“Yes. I don’t know what happened but it was pleasingly more intense than usual. I feel like I finally met the real you,” he said, gently rubbing his fingers in circles over Bokuto’s abs.

“Yeah, the real me that almost killed you because I don’t know my own strength, apparently,” Bokuto scoffed, running both his hands through his hair to keep it away from his still sweaty face.

“It was hot. I liked it. Not that I want to get killed by you, but you’re quite sexy when you lose it. I’m honored you trusted me that much,” Akaashi said, climbing up a little to rest his head on Bokuto’s shoulder.   

“I don’t deserve you,” Bokuto sighed, placing a kiss on the top of Akaashi’s head and grabbing the duvet to cover the both of them, now that the heat of the sex was slowly fading away.

“I could say the same thing.” Akaashi closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

They fell in a comfortable mutual silence, the rain that was still pouring hard outside the only faint sound in the room. Bokuto felt Akaashi’s heartbeat on top of his own, his now regular breathing curling on his chest. He never felt calmer in his life. He realized that no matter how much time it would take to finally be able to do what they wanted with their lives, to be finally free to live together, as long as he had Akaashi on close to him, he would always feel at home.

“You know…” Akaashi’s sleepy voice suddenly broke the silence. “I thought this whole love thing was, I don’t know, a lot more difficult...I wish we could have had all of this way earlier.”

“The adrenaline of the Nationals’ final for sure could have lead to something…” Bokuto laughed, looking down at him with a fond smile.

“Don’t tell me about it,” Akaashi yawned and, in the way he said it, Bokuto realized he wasn’t the only one who had to jerk off that night so many months before.

  
“Well, who cares about the past, we’re here now.” Bokuto pressed a hand on Akaashi’s cheek, lifting his chin so that their tired eyes and still swollen lips could meet again. “Love is a simple thing, Keiji. This time let  _ me _ show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, the biggest thank you goes to Sarah, for being the best beta an author could wish for and for loving this story as much as I did. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading this! As always, kudos and comments are more than welcomed! I'd love to hear from you :)
> 
> And if you want to talk to me, come find me on tumblr [@blackandorange](http://blackandorange.tumblr.com/)


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